Forgotten Blood
by Vkitty
Summary: AU second year. Sequel to Mark of the Wolf. Harry's second year starts off horribly, with a predjudiced new werewolf and Ron getting kidnapped by a tribe of vampires...
1. Default Chapter

Prologue: Blue-Eyed Baby

Diane Weatherly lived in a house on the edge of a large forest in Scotland. Her grandmother had owned the house before she did, and now she owned it along with her husband David. Her daughter, Lizzie, who was only four years old, was currently playing outside while Diane read her book.

_a girl... little, very little... looks tasty..._

"Mummy! Come look what I made!" Lizzie called.

"I'll be right there, honey," Diane said back. She looked at her watch, it was almost lunch time.

_it's almost lunch time..._

"Lizzie, darling, do you want a sarnie?"

_yes... little girl sarnies sound good right now. good thinking..._

"Yes, Mummy!"

_what should we do about the mother? she's going to be out any second..._

Diane got out the food and started making the sarnies.

_stop making so much noise, you'll attract attention..._

There was a small scuffling noise from outside. Diane looked out of the window to check on Lizzie.

"Lizzie? Are you okay?"

"I-- I'm fine... Mummy!"

_ah! she bit me!_

_it's a toddler, what did you expect?_

_she drew blood, dammit..._

Diane put the sandwich on the plate and went into the garden where Lizzie was playing. Lizzie's toys were spread all around, but Lizzie wasn't there.

_quick! run! run! run!_

"Lizzie! Are you hiding?" Diane called.

"Mummy, come and find me!"

_idiot! you idiot!_

Diane put the plate onto Lizzie's play table and looked around.

"Lizzie?"

_don't say a word!_

"MUMMY! MUMMY! MUMMY!"

_run! leave the girl, we can find something cheaper later!_

Lizzie came running out of the forest crying. She latched onto Diane's legs, blubbering.

"Lizzie, what happened?" Diane asked. Lizzie looked towards the forest. "Is there something in the forest?" Lizzie nodded. "Now, I'm sure that's not true. There's nothing to be afraid of in the forest, see-- look, I'll go in and see, all right?"

_she's coming! hide!_

_i'm not going to hide from potential food. i'm starved. _

Diane ventured towards the forest and went a little ways in. She turned back to Lizzie.

"See? Nothing there--" she was cut off by something dropping in front of her from a tree. It was a girl, probably in her late teens with long silvery blonde hair and skin so pale that it was almost transuculent. She was wearing a sort of white, thin smock that covered her from the top of her neck to her ankles. "Are you all right?" Diane asked. The girl looked up at her, then smiled.

In one moment, the girl had leapt up and pinned Diane to a tree.

"Maxine! We don't have all day!" she yelled.

"Who are you?" Diane asked. The girl ignored her.

"Maxine!" Another girl dropped from the trees.

"God, I'm here. I'm here," the girl said.

"Come on, get your share--" Lizzie started screaming loudly.

"You take this one, Sal, I'll get the baby," the girl named Maxine sneered. She stalked over to Lizzie and picked her up. 'Sal' turned and looked Diane in the face.

"Well, you're not exactly the pure-thoughted virgin I would have liked," she said, taking one hand off of Diane, but still effectively pinning her to the tree. She held up her free hand for Diane to see clearly as long, sharp claws grew from it. "But, you'll have to do, won't you?"

"What are you?" Diane asked.

"Keep that fear up, it'll make it sweet," Sal said. She placed her hand onto Diane's face, her claws digging deep into her cheeks. Diane felt all of the blood drain away from her face, she started to feel lightheaded.

"Oh, great, not you two again." A voice said. Sal and Maxine both turned towards the voice to see a tall boy holding a plastic bag in his hand. "I thought we exiled you,"

"Yeah, we came back," Sal said.

"Easy way or hard way?" the boy asked. Sal rolled her eyes and dropped the woman.

"I'm sick of the hard way, we'll go quietly this time," she said, holding out her hands.

"Great," Sal and the boy both looked over at Maxine. "Max?" he asked. Maxine dropped the limp girl and started walking towards him.

"Just so you know, this was all her fault. If we had just hit the hospital, like we normally do--"

"Save it for the Philodox, Max," the boy said, pulling gloves onto his hands and grabbing them both by the arms. "I'm pretty sure we now have enough on you for the death penalty,"


	2. Chapter One

Chapter One:

Disclaimer: Since I forgot to do this during the prologue... Harry Potter and co. does not belong to me, they belong to JK Rowling and I'm not making any money off of this. It would be nice if I was, but sadly, I'm not. Trust me, no moola here. But, the characters you don't recognize do belong to me. Except for Marlaina, Bryon, Liz, and Trey, they belong to their respective namesakes. Now, to the story!

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"I'm telling you, I _do not _have lice, fleas or any other microscopic organism on me," said Harry Potter.

"Well the lice are coming from somebody," a woman named Torra said. "And I have to search every person here to see if they've got them. Trust me, Harry, I've got seven cubs and three adults in isolation already, I don't want any more work here." Harry glared and bowed his head.

"If I had lice, they would be easy to see, right?" he added as Torra looked through his hair.

"Okay then," Harry looked up.

"I'm done?" he asked. Torra nodded.

"You haven't got lice," she said. "You've got mites,"

"WHAT?"

"Which means, you're going into isolation along with everybody else you've had contact with in the past few days," Torra said.

"Past few days?" Harry choked.

"Well, unless I've already checked them," Torra reassured. "Now, I suppose you know where isolation is?"

"Yes, I know where isolation is," Harry mimicked. "I'll get there," he said. Harry had been to isolation before, twice actually, and it wasn't a pleasant experience. The last time he went to isolation, it was because he had caught a bad case of the flu. Isolation was one of the worst places someone could go, it was a dark and dreary cave lit up by a few candles with a black cloth hanging from the mouth of the cave; the whole place smelled of death, vomit and stale jellybeans.

There was a guard in front of the isolation cave; when Harry approached him, he looked down.

"Mites," Harry said solemnly. The guard lifted the cloth and let Harry in. There were about fifteen other people in there. Harry sat down next to a boy around his name who was very pale. "Lice?" he asked.

"Black pox and malaria and... _leprosy_," the boy corrected. Harry scooted away almost immediately. One of the worst aspects of being put into isolation, was the fact that you could possibly catch something even worse than what you came in with.

"What caused it?" Harry asked. The boy shrugged. He pulled his collar down so that Harry could see his shoulder; the tell-tale marks in the shape of a half-moon confirmed what had previously been an inkling in Harry's mind.

"You're bitten?" Harry asked. The boy nodded.

"Mistress Sutherson decided to have me test the poisons that the class made. She knew I wasn't a pureblood; knew I probably wouldn't be able to handle it as much as some of the _better ones _here. But did she care? Noo...." He explained bitterly. "I believe I've got a touch of pneumonia as well, but that I can handle."

Harry could relate. He, himself, was a bitten werewolf also; not only a werewolf, but a wizard fresh out of his first year of Hogwarts as well. He lived with a tribe that was a part of the Fianna werewolves, in the forbidden forest. They had an alpha leader, a tall, wild man named Odyn; and they had very few bitten wolves, as it wasn't good form to bite humans.

When Harry had been bitten, by an old man named Dismas who was now long dead, he had been about to turn six years old. He was taken in by a prominent pureblooded werewolf family by the name of Caolaidhe, and made friends with Felan, their son. Since then, he had learned everything that a twelve-year-old werewolf ought to know; including how to hunt, behave and survive on his own in any condition. At Hogwarts, he learned new things, like how to cast spells and make potions; he was the envy of every cub in the pack.

Mistress Sutherson was one of the teachers who taught the werewolf cubs how to do such things as Harry had learned. She didn't like bitten wolves, as most pureblooded werewolves didn't (Harry found it was a similar situation in the wizarding world) and tested most of the poisons she taught the students to make on bitten wolves. Mistress Sutherson was also from a very high-standing werewolf family, the Sutherson family was comprised of, what seemed to be, only the best of the packs. The women were beautiful, talented and could catch, skin and cook a rabbit using a piece of floss, some gum, a few sticks and a piece of lettuce; and the men were the strongest, best, and most handsome fighters in the hemisphere.

"So, has Torra gotten an antidote yet?" Harry asked. The boy shrugged. Torra was good at her job as the local healer, she could create an antidote to almost anything that she created; it was other people's draughts that she had trouble figuring out.

"She'll send someone in when she gets it," he said.

"I know she'll figure it out," Harry said. "A few months ago, a friend of mine had some sort of syphilis and small pox strain, and she fixed in a few days." The friend was Ron, one of Harry's best friends at Hogwarts. He had gotten the syphilis and small pox from something he had drank while he was with the pack during Beltane.

"What've you got?" the boy asked.

"Mites," Harry said. "I'm sure I'll be getting out--"

"'arry?"

"Soon," Harry finished. He turned towards the guard in the cavemouth. "Yes?" The guard threw him a tall bottle full of something thick, green and oozy that belonged more in a science fiction movie.

"Wash off yer 'ead wif it and report back to McBorgen immediately," he said.

"Thanks," Harry looked at the bottle.

"Thanks for keeping me company," the boy said. "Harry, right?"

"Yeah, and your name?" Harry asked.

"Christian." the boy replied.

"Great, so I'll see you around?" Harry asked.

"Sure," the boy said. "That is if I survive any longer," he joked... or at least Harry hoped he joked. Either way, Harry smiled and ran out of the isolation cave, happy to be free of the horrible dead feeling. He stopped running when he came to a large crowd gathered around two willowy blonde girls, both wearing long pants, long-sleeved shirts, large brimmed hats and black gloves on their hands, on the small parts of skin not covered by something, Harry could see pale, heavily veined skin. Zombies?

"They're Baobhan Sith, Harry. Get your mythology correct," a girl named Marlaina replied when he asked. "Hugh caught the suckheads feeding off of some humans at the edge," she explained. Marlaina was a very pretty girl, a few months younger than Harry, with long, curly dark-red hair and blue eyes.

"And they've already got a few feedings on their records, so Hugh says that they might get the death penalty-- I so hope they do. I don't care if they protect our borders or what not, if they keep on feeding people are going to notice and see what exactly's going on in the forest..." Marlaina continued.

"How are they going to die?" Harry asked.

"Well, there's death by starvation-- which'll be awful fun to watch--"

"Awful being the main word there," Harry interrupted. Marlaina went on as if he hadn't spoken.

"Death by fire, like they used to do to witches... Death by impaling, they'll drive sticks into random body parts for a few days until they're all rotted, and then put them on display and stab them in the heart finally..."

"Sadistic," Harry said.

"Then there's poison-- which I hope they'll use the slow acting ones so that we'll get to see them suffer," Marlaina thought for a moment. "And then there's my favorite, death by decapitation. I hope someone we know'll get to keep the head..."

"SILENCE!" Called out a voice. Harry and Marlaina both looked towards the front where Odyn was standing with his arms up. He looked towards Hugh, the adolescent who had brought the two Baobhan Sith in. "What did they do this time?" he asked in an almost bored voice.

"Saw them feeding off of two humans by the border of the forest," Hugh said smugly.

"And what of the sheep?" Odyn asked.

"Dead," Hugh sighed. "I think we'll have to do the death penalty," he said in an unforgiving voice.

"Not if I have anything to say about it," everyone in the crowd turned towards the source of disruption. It was Aubine, the leader of the tribe of Baobhan Sith that the two girls belonged to. This particular tribe of vampires had been standing guard over the forest for more than a century (or so Harry heard), ever since the Black Fury tribe moved into the forest. The Fianna started living in the forest about twenty years ago.

Aubine took a step forward towards the werewolves, and was surrounded by weapons on all sides. Every werewolf in the crowd, from the tallest to the smallest, had gotten out a weapon-- from the three-year-olds carrying dull knives that could barely slice a beetle in two; to the Ahrouns with swords and bow and arrows.

"State your business here," Odyn demanded.

"Trials involving the people outside of the borders are my territory-- why didn't anyone inform me?" Aubine asked. "Not to mention I could bring Lysippe over, since she has domain over the females in trial." Harry was sure no one wanted that. Lysippe was the leader of the Black Furies who lived only a few miles west, a tribe of all women with an amazonian feel to it.

"Now get them down," Aubine ordered. The two Ahrouns standing guard over the girls looked towards Odyn, who gave the signal to release them. There was a definite subdued feeling to the crowd by this turn of events.

"We're the ones that were smart enough to exile these two," Odyn said. "And you agreed that they'd be ours to kill if they'd done another act like this. They're _liabilities_,"

"I don't care. You do not execute ripe Baobhan Sith-- daughters of one a prime family in the vampire nation. They would have my head," Aubine protested. "Bring them here," The girls were walked through the crowd, huge toothy smiles on their faces. One was pushing the brim of her hat down a bit so that she could evade the sun.

"I can't believe they brought us out here for nothing," Marlaina sighed. "There hasn't been a good vampire execution since '87. And just because they weren't our business..." she grumbled. One of the vampire girls hissed at her and she aimed an arrow (a particularily strange one, thought Harry, with an orange tip) at the girl's throat.

"Marlaina," Harry warned, pushing the bow down. Marlaina rolled her eyes. Harry stopped her and nodded towards the Baobhan Sith girl who had touched a little girl's cheek. "Now it's our business," he said as the Baobhan Sith was quickly decapitated by the mother. Sadly, now it was everyone's business. The Baobhan Sith, the Fianna, and the Black Furies.

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A/N: I'm sorta at another non-internet faze. I'm actually getting started on the fourth chapter-- I'm at a block here how to write the chapter without totally just ripping the pages out of my book and pasting them to my monitor, so....

After I proof my second chapter a bit I'll post it as soon as I get to the internet again, which might be the same day I post this. So later.


	3. Chapter Two

Chapter Two: The Madness Within

Fiona Faoiltiarna was a disagreeable bird, as Felan might have said. She hated wearing skirts, hated vegetables, hated cooking, hated anything to do with dolls (and hated dolls). There wasn't many things Fi did like, actually; namely alcoholic beverages and rabbits. That is to say, eating rabbits.

"Ew, carrots-- here Drunkard," Fi threw the boiled carrot to the tabby cat, who pawed at it curiously. "Why do we have to eat vegetables anyways?" she asked Harry, who was picking at his plate of food next to her.

"Because they balance out your diet?" he offered half-heartedly. Fi didn't seem to hear him-- or she ignored him.

"Right. So have you seen Dee's new haircut? It's horrible-- again. I swear, if her mother was a-- erm... hair-cutter--, she'd be sued." Fi carelessly tossed another carrot over her shoulder. Dee Philips was another werewolf cub, a pretty one (as many of them were), with blonde hair and blue eyes.

"Maybe you should eat those carrots. They do good for your eyesight," Harry said.

"Eyesight? My eyesight's fine. What are you trying to say about my eyesight?" Fi asked all in one breath.

"Nothing," Harry answered. There was silence as Fi looked at a green plant on her plate cautiously. "It's asparagus, Fi," Harry said.

"Oh, right. Here, Drunkard, fetch." Fi threw the asparagus over her shoulder and it hit Drunkard square on the back. Harry rolled his eyes. "Come on, Harry. Have a spring in your step. Today's the day that Felan comes back, y'know."

"Trust me, I know. You've reminded me every day since I've been back here," Harry said.

"His Mammo's coming too, you know," Fi added.

"What?" Harry turned his head so fast that he cricked it by accident. He rubbed his neck and said, "Who's coming along?"

"Felan's Mammo. Y'know, his gran," Fi repeated. "Don't tell me you've never met Felan's Mammo,"

"No, _you've _never met Felan's Mammo. _I've _met the woman, she's a disgrace to mankind-- err... wolfkind I guess."

"Felan's grandma's nice," Fi said. "Well, she was nice to me. Course I knew the woman for all of five minutes before I had to leave for Belgium with Keavy. Now, there's someone who's a disgrace to man-wolf-whatever-kind, Keavy's Belgium-ish cousin Courtney. She's a maniac,"

"Well you didn't have to stay with Felan's Mammo for all two weeks in the same room," Harry deadpanned. "She's _horrible._" Harry had met Felan's grandmother three times during his residence with Felan's family. Each time, Fi was conveniently off in Belgium with Keavy, or serving some sort of three week-long punishment in the forest. Felan's grandmother was a shrewd woman; shorter than Harry, with black hair streaked with gray, and two-inch thick glasses for her to see through. She didn't like bitten wolves, as she made perfectly clear when she whacked Harry with her walking cane for invading her personal space... when he was two feet away. Those two-inch thick glasses and that walking cane was just an act-- Harry was convinced of this.

"And now, you've got nowhere to go," Harry said happily. "You're staying right in this five-mile-radius of that evil woman, and you're suffering with me."

------------------

Dubheasa Caolaidhe, Felan's mother, spent the entire day cooking. When it was a few moments until Felan would be back (as Fi so happily reminded Harry), she pulled Harry aside and warned him.

"Now, Harry, I know Riona isn't about to win a congeniality award any time soon, but still, she is the matriarch of the family and we need to treat her with respect."

"I thought Felan's great-great-great grandmother was the matriarch, and she's still alive to my knowledge," Harry said. Dubheasa was not amused.

"Blair," Blair was Felan's father, "wants this to be a nice visit for his mam. Now, I'm not as thrilled as he is about having that woman within fifty miles of me, but I still have to put on a happy face as well." Translation? "Be nice. After the initial hour, you can stay in Fi's den for dinner and don't move from there until morning. Cheer up, Harry, the old bird will be dying soon and we'll all be able to breath deeply when that happens, right?"

Sadly, this did not cheer Harry up as much as he thought it should. But it did give him the nice thought that Dubheasa wanted Mammo Riona back in Ireland as fast as possible as well.

At half-twelve, Felan and Blair arrived, with the sour-looking Riona in tow. She looked exactly as Harry remembered her, with the exception of many more gray hairs, thicker glasses and a new knobbly cane.

"Are you _still _here?" she asked upon seeing Harry. "I thought you were already eighteen!"

"He's almost twelve, mam," Blair said. "Harry, say hello to Mammo Riona,"

"Hello... Mammo... Riona," he had a bit of trouble getting the last part out. As she rarely acted like a Mammo Riona, especially to him. Then again, she was in her dying years...

Harry's train of thought was disrupted by a hard hit to his neck. Harry bit back a yelp.

"Get out of my way, boy!" Mammo Riona said in a croaky voice.

"Riona, how good it is to see you again!" Dubheasa chirped, a large, fake smile plastered on her face. Mammo Riona looked Dubheasa up and down and shook her head.

"You have more gray hairs I see..." she said.

"You should talk," Harry muttered. Mammo Riona spun around faster than a eighty-year-old should be able to spin around, and whacked him on the side of the face.

"What did you say to me boy?" she asked. Of course, Harry thought, a believer in the shoot first, ask questions later philosophy.

"He said nothing!" Felan said quickly. Felan was hit on the ribs by Mammo Riona's cane.

"Don't protect the boy, he needs to learn respect!" she shrieked. Felan doubled over.

"I think you broke my rib!" he gasped. Mammo Riona ignored him.

"Shut up, boy and go fix up a bed for me." Harry turned to Felan.

"A bed? She's _staying_?" he asked.

"Of course, you don't think she just rode up for the day, do you?" Harry grabbed Felan by the shirt and hauled him outside. "Ow! This is just insult to injury now-- Hey, hey, watch-- some of that's skin." Harry let go once they were in the sunlight. Felan smoothed out his shirt, as if trying to repair the damage to his ego that had resulted off of being man-handled by a boy one year younger than him and two weight classes lower.

"I was thinking it would be **wonderful** if she stayed for just the day," Harry hissed.

"Harry, I know you think that Mammo's the scourge of Europe--"

"She is!" Harry interrupted.

"But she's really, just well meaning." Felan finished.

"Well meaning? Well meaning? She hates me! She treed me last time she was here!" Felan laughed.

"Yeah, that was funny though." He reminisced. "But jolly not good," he added, seeing Harry's face. "Come on, Harry. You only have to spend two days with her, I had to spend two months with her. She almost _crippled _me, Harry."

"What's she here for anyways?" Harry asked.

"I dunno," Felan shrugged. "She was talking to Da about the arrangement of something or other..."

--------------------

Harry was hit by Mammo Riona's walking stick seventy times between then and dinner. Sometimes it was because he wasn't standing straight, sometimes it was because he was too close to her, sometimes it was because he hadn't introduced her to somebody, and sometimes it was because he was too quiet or too loud. By the time the sun set, there were twenty good bruises on his neck, legs, arms and back.

"Sit down for dinner, boy!" Mammo Riona screeched, hitting Harry on the leg. Harry suppressed a yelp and rubbed his leg.

"Actually, Harry is going to have dinner with his friend Fi. You remember Fi, don't you Riona?" Dubheasa asked. Mammo Riona nodded and scratched her chin.

"That girl being raised by that Belgian wench?" she asked.

"Yes, that's Keavy," Dubheasa said. She nodded for Harry to leave and Harry did leave. In fact, he ran over to Fi's den where she was lying on her back, reading some magazine, Drunkard was purring contentedly on her stomach.

"Mammo Riona's scarred me for life," Harry announced. Fi looked down at him.

"Come on in, we can be the Scar Club. Or... you know... the Bitter Bitten Cub Club. I hearby declare this, the first meeting." She deadpanned. "And you're not scarred for life."

"What is that, Guns and Ammo?" Harry asked, picking the magazine from her fingers. Fi nodded.

"So," Fi sat up and scratched at her neck. "Have you gotten any letters from your _friends_?" she asked. Actually, Harry hadn't, which had pissed him off to no end. He had let Hedwig, his owl, out of her cage precious few times as many cubs didn't differentiate between "Hedwig" and "Moving Target" (or even worse, "Potential Dinner"). Perhaps that was the reason that he hadn't seen any owls around... Ron did say that he was going to invite Harry over the summer, but no letters had come from Ron or Hermione.

"No," Harry answered sullenly. Fi seemed interested now.

"Hm, they haven't written you? Don't they like their Harry "Worth-his-weight-in-gold" Potter?" she asked.

"Not now, Fi," Harry protested. Ever since he'd gotten back, Fi had been picking on him for "getting all moral" as she put it.

"God forbid they were just in it for the fame?" Fi shrugged and let out a sigh. "Maybe you should put some new friends on back-order. Y'know, for when you get back to school and all."

"Fi!"

"What?" she asked, trying to look innocent. Of course, coming from a tribe where innocence was about as foreign as Ancient Hebrew, you could understand if she was a bit off the mark.

Harry rolled his eyes and settled his gaze on a pile of clothes near the wall. Fi was dead set on being annoying to him though, so she continued talking. Harry suddenly jumped to his feet. He'd been staring at the clothing, bent on trying to ignore Fi-- and the pile of clothes stared back. Two enormous green eyes had appeared in between a green sweatshirt and a blue camisole.

"Fi..." he said.

"What?" she asked.

"I know you like to hide things in your room, but this is ridiculous." Fi turned to where he was looking.

"I don't hide things in my clothes anymore-- not since that dead fish, and it came back to life." She said. "Why, what are you--" Fi stopped midsentence and went towards the pile.

"Fi, don't do it. Don't do it, Fi... Come back here," Harry muttered. Fi didn't listen, she stretched out one hand and poked one of the eyes. A little creature with large, bat-like ears and bulging green eyes tumbled out. "I told you not to!" he growled. The creature stood up and pulled a sock off of his head.

"Er... hello," Harry said nervously.

"Harry Potter!" the creature chirped in a high-pitched voice. "So long has Dobby wanted to meet you, sir... Such an honor it is!"

"Thanks," Harry said.

"Who are you?" Fi asked immediately.

"Dobby, miss. Dobby the house-elf," the creature said.

"Oh," Fi whispered. "Look, not that we're very pleased to see you, but why were you in my clothing?" she asked in a much stronger voice. Harry knocked her head.

"Don't say that!" he said.

"What? It's not like you weren't thinking it!"

"What she means is-- is there any particular reason you're here?" Harry queried.

"Oh, yes, sir. Dobby has come to tell you, sir... it is difficult, sir... Dobby wonders where to begin..."

"Sit down," Harry said. He looked at Fi. "Well, get it-- him a chair,"

"I don't have chairs," Fi hissed. Then, Dobby burst into tears-- very loud tears.

"S-sit down? Never... never ever..."

"See, look now, you offended it!" Fi whispered.

"Offend Dobby?" Choked the house-elf. "Dobby has _never _been asked to sit down by a wizard-- like an equal--"

"Dobby, why are you here?" Harry repeated.

"Dobby-- Dobby has to warn Harry Potter, even if he does have to shut his ears in the oven later... _Harry Potter must not go back to Hogwarts_!"

"What?" Harry asked. "But, I've got to go back. Term starts on September first and-- and I've got to--"

"No, no, no," Dobby squealed. "Harry Potter must stay where he is safe. He is too great, too good, to lose. If Harry Potter goes back to Hogwarts, he will be in mortal danger."

"Why?" Harry asked in surprise.

"There is a plot, Harry Potter. A plot to make most terrible things happen at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this year," Dobby said frantically. "Dobby has known for months, sir. Harry Potter must not put himself in trouble, he is important, sir!"

"What terrible things? Who's plotting them?" Harry asked. Dobby made a funny choking noise and banged his head against the wall.

"NO ELF!" Fi shrieked and pulled him back. At Harry's confused expression, she replied calmly, "Keavy took some Valium and went down for a nap. If I wake her up... it'll be really bleak."

"Does this have anything to do with Voldemort?" Harry asked. He had a feeling it did. Dobby clapped his hands over his bat ears and groaned loudly.

"Ah! Sir must not speak the name!"

"Sorry," Harry said quickly. "I know lots of people don't like it, my friend Ron--" Harry stopped. Thinking about Ron right now was a bit painful.

"Dobby heard tell that," Dobby swallowed, "that Harry Potter met the Dark Lord for a second time, just weeks ago... That Harry Potter escaped _again_,"

"He's really feeling the slavish devotion here, isn't he?" Fi said.

"Does it have to do with You-Know-Who?" Harry asked desperately. "Just shake your head yes or no," Slowly, Dobby shook his head. "Well then I can't think of any other person who would make bad things happen at Hogwarts. And-- and I can't stay here, I'll go out of my mind if I have to see her face every day," Harry pointed to Fi.

"Hey!"

"And I've got friends there," Harry said. Fi snorted unpleasantly.

"_Them," _

"Friends that don't even write to Harry Potter?" Dobby said shyly.

"They've probably just been-- wait a minute." Harry looked down at Dobby who was wringing his ears worriedly. "How do _you _know that Ron and Hermione haven't been writing?" he asked.

"Harry Potter musn't be angry with Dobby. Dobby did it for his best--"

"_You've been stopping my letters!" _Harry yelled angrily.

"Dobby has them here, sir," the elf stepped out of Fi's reach and pulled a thick wad of envelopes from the inside of the pillowcase he was wearing. They were barely out a second when they were in Fi's hands. She started looking through them.

"You've got some from Hermione... Ron... here's that Hagrid man's letter..." Dobby blinked up at Harry.

"Harry Potter must not be angry... Dobby hoped... if Harry Potter thought his friends had forgotten him... Harry Potter might not want to go back to school, sir..." Harry wasn't listening.

"I'm going back to Hogwarts, and you _cannot stop me," _he said heatedly.

"Then Harry Potter leaves Dobby no choice, sir," Dobby said sadly. Before Harry had the chance to grab for the elf, Dobby had ran out of the den and into the night. Harry stared after him a moment, before jumping up.

"Come on!" he growled, grabbing Fi's collar and pulling her up. Once they were outside, Harry could see Dobby darting into another cave. "There! Hurry!" He whispered. They sprinted across the grounds, not making any sound at all, before they reached where Dobby had gone. There was a large red cloth hanging in front of the cage with the Sutherson glyph imprinted on it.

"No! No!" Fi pulled Harry back. "That's Mistress Sutherson's territory-- she's got her sisters over!"

"All thirty?" Harry asked, bewildered. "That's impossible, there's not enough space."

"They're Suthersons, they'll make space," Fi said.

"The Suthersons... Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Harry asked.

"'Murderous Elf Slaughters Fifty, Cubs Survive'?"

"He's going to do something to them," Harry whispered.

"And we're going to _stop _him? The Suthersons are more capable then we are!" Fi hissed. Harry ignored her and went in. It was true, all thirty Sutherson girls (and about twenty Sutherson men) were crammed into the small room and all chattering incessently. Fi ducked in after him.

"So what do you think he's going after?" she asked. Harry shrugged.

"What about..."

"That," Fi interrupted.

"What?"

"That!" Fi pointed to a large red bowl of punch (or vodka with food coloring, thought Harry) wobbling slightly on top of a bookcase. It was Mistress Sutherson's prized punch, extremely alcoholic and extremely sought after. Supposedly, one girl had drinken a whole bottle full, as a dare. She got her sight back in three months.

"Where _is _Dobby?" Harry asked, looking around. Fi looked at him incredulously.

"You kidding me? Sniff him out, omnivore!" she said. Harry rolled his eyes and sniffed the air. He did smell Dobby, however lightly in this crowd of highly-perfumed girls and overly-cologned men. Then, he saw him. Dobby was suddenly on top of the bookcase and, with a crack like a whip, in front of Harry. Harry felt his stomach disappear.

"Dobby, no. Mistress Sutherson'll decapitate me," he said.

"Dobby has to. Harry Potter must say that he is not going back to school--" Large tears were dropping from Dobby's eyes and into the punch bowl, making small sparks every time one did so.

"Dobby, just... put it down, please!"

"Say it sir--"

"No!" Harry said. Dobby gave him a tragic look.

"Then Dobby must," he said. He threw the punch onto a talking girl and she screamed and fell over. With another crack, Dobby was gone.

The Sutherson girl was screaming wildly and flailing around on the floor. Indeed, it did seem like the punch was sizzling right through her skin. The crowd turned silent and Mistress Samantha Sutherson pushed her way to the front.

"What the hell happened here?" she asked. "Katherine, Pamela, get her cleaned up before she starts convulsing." Two girls rushed out and picked up the screaming girl. Harry would run, but he seemed frozen to the spot. "You two," Mistress Sutherson gestured to them. "Explain,"

For all six years that Harry'd known her, whether the crime was stealing liquor from Torra's cabinents, or gutting someone's pet rabbit on accident, or spilling radioactive experimental drinks onto Marlaina's new shirt (which would be accidently-on-purpose), Fi had always had a plausible story or an alibi on hand. If the story needed proof that a rampaging, blue-furred monkey had broken into Torra McBorgen's storage and drinken all of her jalepeno-banana-flavored vodka, then she would find the alleged rampaging monkey, dye it blue, force feed it alcohol and present it to Torra. Harry usually counted on her for a semi-plausible story that would explain why they were somewhere, at some time and how.

Right now, she seemed fresh out of alibis.

-------------


	4. Chapter Three

Chapter Three: Trapped

Mistress Sutherson outranked Keavy Faoiltiarna and the Caolaidhes by about fifteen ranks. Which meant, Harry and Fi were left to rot, after Fi's horrible excuse (that is, when she finally made one up) for almost killing a Sutherson girl.

"What was acid doing in punch anyways?" Harry asked himself. But it was a little late for that question. They had already been locked away in Harry's and Felan's room, the cave entrance was all sealed up with bricks with the exception of a small cat-flap, where food was pushed in two times a day.

"They'll have to let us out sometime, Harry. When Alpha comes back, he'll outrank Sutherson for sure, then she'll have to let us out." Odyn, the Alpha Leader, was currently seven miles away in the Black Fury camp, where he was settling the trial of (the werewolf family) Jensen vs. Salene and Maxine (or... ex-Maxine) Tringle.

"That trial'll take months, years even with Lysippe and her birds involved," Harry grumbled.

"But, on the other hand, I _am _getting out of Philodox training," Fi said. "So, that's good for me," Fi's Philodox training was the training that prepared her for her Rite of Passage, determined upon what phase of the moon she was born under. Harry had Theurge training, so he wasn't sure what Philodox training require. Theurge training though, entailed hours of attempting to look into the spirit world using different combinations of methods and long, boring meditations.

The cat-flap rattled and two plates of vegetables were pushed in. Harry heard Fi make a noise of disgust as he went and grabbed the plates.

"Be happy, they could be not feeding us at all," he said, passing her a plate. Fi looked at the plate and cringed.

"You _do _realize that they're giving us the rejected foods?" she asked. Harry shrugged. He ate all of his vegetables anyways (he had let Hedwig go right before they sealed them in) and pushed the plate aside. Living with the tribe, he had never really gone hungry at all because there were plenty of things around to eat, but right now, he felt particularily starving.

"So, say this happens," Fi started. "Odyn comes back, and Sutherson challenges him for Alpha-- because we all know she's one power-hungry bitch-- and she wins. She keeps us locked in here for the rest of our lives, what are the Hogwarts people going to do if you're unable to go back?" she asked. Harry knew, somehow, that she wasn't asking this question to be annoying this time.

"I dunno," he said. "Dumbledore can't do very much to get me out without offending somebody. I guess we'll just have to see in a few days time. Unless, you can find a way to get through that cat-flap," Harry suggested. Fi shook her head.

"I'm too big, but that's not a bad idea," she said.

"What?" Harry asked. She shook her head again.

"You, sleep, I'll figure it out." But it didn't look like she was figuring anything out at all, it looked like she was examining her hair closely. Harry closed his eyes and tried to get some sleep. Supposing that Fi did figure out a way to get out, he would need his energy.

Harry dreamed that he was in a house of mirrors, every where he turned there would be at least ten of him looking back at him. He dragged his left hand along the mirrors to find the way out. He'd finally made it, there was a staircase reflecting off of all of the mirrors. He ran to the staircase and found himself swimming in a pool of red stuff. Blood. He tried to swim, but his arms just flailed helplessly and he kept breathing in blood, which burned as it went down his throat thickly. All around the pool were Baobhan Sith, with their long blonde hair, tall, skeletal bodies and veined faces. A little girl was on the edge, grinning demonically.

"Do it again! Do it again!" she shrieked. All of the Baobhan Sith were laughing at him, and pointing their long, skeletal fingers at him. Some were drinking from the pool, their hands were extended into the blood, blissful smiles were on their faces. Harry tried to talk, but he couldn't, his throat felt like it was on fire.

"Put him out of his misery, Maggy!" one Baobhan Sith yelled. Another pulled Harry out of the water and pulled off the gloves on her hands with her sharp teeth. Harry's breath quickened as he saw her hand seem to grow more veins at the fingertips as she lowered it towards his face and long claws grew from the fingernails. He tried to pull away, but she had a vice like grip on his neck.

"No... no... don't," he tried to say.

"Don't what?" Harry opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was the crescent moon above him. He hopped to his feet quickly.

"Where am I?" he asked.

"I got us out," Fi said proudly. "All it took was a little... lice. Torra's so stupid." Harry took a deep breath.

"Where. Am. I?" he repeated.

"Where does it look like you are?" Fi asked. "We're outside, waiting for Felan. He said he had something to tell you,"

"How did you get me out while I was still sleeping?" Harry asked. Fi shrugged.

"You do take sleep pretty seriously for a werewolf." She had only just finished the sentence when Felan came sprinting in, looking very unsettled. He pointed at Harry.

"You," he panted. "Your friend-- has..." he took a few more breaths, "really, really red hair, right?" he asked.

"That's Ron, yeah," Harry said. "What about him, is he here?" Felan shook his head and swallowed.

"You'd better see this. Fi, you stay,"

"What, why?" she blurted.

"You're a... you're a liability," Felan retorted. Harry could practically hear the Fi trying to think of something to say. Finally, she huffed.

"Fine," she said. "But if I'm such a liability, then I know exactly where you're going."

"Where are we going?" Harry asked, when him and Felan had already walked about a mile from their original place.

"Aubine's territory," Felan replied.

"Baobhan Sith territory?" Harry exclaimed. "Have you gone mad? They'll kill us."

"And if they don't, Alpha will-- yes, I know all of this. But Alpha's the one that sent us over,"

"Us?" Harry asked. "You and..."

"Bryon and Charlie. We're on a recon thing, see if any of the leeches are feeding off of the humans,"

"Anything yet?" Harry asked. Felan grinned.

"Oh yeah, Salene and Maxine Tringle. The two girls on trial, fed off of six humans in two days, they're definitely going to the execution line for this. But, y'know, since they are women and that's Lysippe's territory... it's going to take a few months," Felan said. He stopped at a tree. "Here,"

"Here what?" Harry asked. Felan looked up, Harry looked up. "We climb?" he asked. Felan nodded.

"Come on then," Felan said, he started climbing up the tree, almost monkey like. Harry followed. When they were at the top, Harry saw that on the branches, various binoculars and bags were hung. Felan expressed slight concern over where Bryon and Charlie were, then he shrugged and handed binoculars to Harry and took a pair for himself.

"How much did these cost?" Harry asked. Felan shrugged.

"I dunno, we stole them," he said. Since actual money was scarce in the tribe, most of the cubs were habitual pickpockets and thiefs; which was how they got most of the stuff they had. Harry had once (and only once!) stolen a blue hooded sweatshirt to wear when it was cold. On the other hand, he knew Charlie's sister Charlotte had once stolen a diamond engagement ring and a purse.

"What am I supposed to be looking for?" Harry asked, peering through the binoculars.

"No, over here," Felan climbed onto the vines and slid down to another tree, hitting it with a small 'thump!'. Harry followed him.

"Where do I look?" Harry asked again.

"Ten o'clock," Felan said. Harry turned towards where Felan directed and saw them. Blonde, blue-eyed girls dancing around three redheads.

"There're three?" Harry croaked. "How come you didn't tell me there're three?" he asked.

"Because I didn't want to worry you," Felan said. "They've been here for about a half hour. You know the drill, first they'll tire them out, then they'll feed. How long do you think they've got?" he asked.

"About three hours," Harry said. "At most. I need to get them,"

"No!" Felan stopped Harry from leaping from the tree. "Those are not just any girls, and we're disobeying at least thirteen rules just by being on their territory. They know the law,"

"Isn't it our priority to make sure that they don't eat the outsiders though?" Harry asked. Felan shook his head.

"The Sith have a clause; they can eat anything that comes onto their territory, including you." He corrected. Harry gulped.

"So, you've got some sort of plan then, right? You didn't just bring me up here to watch my best friend die?"

"I thought I was your best friend," Felan said suspiciously.

"You are, it's just... you know, you're like different best friends." Harry squeaked. This answer seemed to be fine to Felan, because he looked back through the binoculars.

"Wait, what's she doing?" he turned a knob on the binoculars and stood up. The slight breeze that had been blowing turned more into a typhoon-like wind, and rain started pouring in torrents from the sky.

"Felan, is this normal?" Harry asked. "This... apocalypse-type weather?"

"N-Not at all," Felan said. "We'd better go, _now,_" they both dropped the binoculars and jumped from the tree. Harry stumbled a bit after he hit the ground (he was still very new to this jumping from high places thing), but soon caught up to Felan's pace of running. Soon after, he started hearing wild screeching sounds, like bats.

"We have to run to Black Fury territory, it's nearest!" Felan yelled. "They wouldn't dare do anything to us there!" _But what will the Black Furies do? _the small, nagging voice in the back of Harry's head asked. "Just keep running!" Harry ignored the voice and kept running.

The Black Fury territory was about half a mile ahead, Harry could see the tall maroon colored tents among the trees. They were home free.

Then, Harry wasn't sure how it happened. He knew it happened very quickly though. They were surrounded by the tall, willowy figures of the Baobhan Sith. They seemed to appear out of nowhere; but it was hard for Harry to acknowledge anything except for the fact that one of them was holding Ron up by the neck.

"Stop!" she ordered. Harry stopped. Felan eventually stopped when he realized they were vastly outnumbered.

"Let him go!" Harry demanded; but it didn't come out quite as loud or demandish as he would have liked. They stood that way for a few seconds, the rain pouring down onto them, and Ron being held up by the neck, quite unconcious. "Let him go!" Harry said again, this time louder. The Sith girl stared down at him with an amused expression.

"What are you going to do if we don't?" Harry was suddenly reminded of exactly how many Sith there were around him, and how they were all about seven feet tall; whereas he and Felan were both a lot shorter. Harry did the only thing he could think of. He took out his wand.

There was a small collective gasp from the Sith, a few mutters and a few of them seemed to become even whiter than normal.

"He's a wizard?" One asked.

"He's an _underage wizard_," the one who seemed to be the leader said. She was a lot younger than Aubine, perhaps in her late teens-- but then again, they were all in their late teens or early twenties. "He can't do a thing,"

"Really? Try me," Harry dared. "You see, I have a problem with people seeking to drink the blood of my best friends,"

"And see, I have a problem with little toddler werewolves coming onto our territory," the leader said. "We should go on a talk show, shouldn't we?"

"Let him go!" Harry repeated.

"No!" the girl said. Felan looked over at Harry, obviously trying to convey some sort of message with his facial features alone. The message was pretty clear: _Do something._ Harry hesitated. He pointed his wand at the girl's face and did the only spell he could think of at the moment.

"_Lumos Solen!" _A bright light flashed from the tip of his wand and stretched towards the girl. When it touched her skin, her skin started charring immediately; she screamed and dropped Ron.

"Get him!" she screamed. The Baobhan Sith started moving all at once towards them, but Harry was quicker as he flashed his light at all of them. All of them shrunk away, and one who had gotten in Harry's direct path fell to the ground screeching loudly as her skin was enveloped in flames; she combusted in a matter of seconds.

"_Nox_," Harry whispered when they were all down-- most of them trying to put out small fires that had started to consume them. "C'mon, let's get Ron and go,"

"What about the other ones?" Felan asked. "The two other boys?" Harry turned towards one Baobhan Sith.

"You go get them," he ordered.

"Why should I?" she asked.

"Because if you don't, I'll kill half of your tribe," Harry pointed his wand towards the other girls, who immediately started cringing in fear. "So how about it?"

Once again, it had all happened very fast. Ron woke up within a few minutes and told Harry everything that had happened; him and his brothers, Fred and George, had come to pick him up since he hadn't been answering his letters ("We asked you to stay loads of times,") when they wandered into a glade where the Baobhan Sith captured them.

"Never, ever do that again," Harry said. "There are far worse things in the forest than vampires," he reminded Ron.

"So, do you still want to go?" Ron asked.

"Where?"

"To my home," Ron said matter-of-factly.

"Yeah, sure," Harry said immediately. "I mean-- I'd love to go. All I've got for courses this summer is writing and reading, and I'm already good at those,"

"Great, the car's just outside of the forest but... you need your bags," Ron observed. Harry thought for a moment, then an idea came to his head.

"That is no problem," he said. He turned to the head Baobhan Sith and pointed his wand at her. "You, what's your name?" he asked.

"Maggy," she grumbled.

"Maggy?" Harry repeated. There was a 'Maggy' in his dream. "Maggy, that's it?"

"Mag-noh-lee-yah," she said slowly, as if talking to a five-year-old.

"Right, I want you to go to the Fianna caves and find the only girl awake, make sure she's got a werewolf bite on her leg, and tell her to get Harry Potter's clothes and stuff them in a trunk. Then bring the trunk back, understand?" he asked. She nodded and blurred away.

Within a few minutes, both the Baobhan Sith ( one who, Harry learned, was the infamous Salene Tringle), and the one named Maggy were back. Maggy dropped Harry's bags at his feet, and Salene dropped the unconcious Fred and George at his feet.

"They're suffering from minor bloodloss, but they'll be fine in an hour," Salene reported grudgingly.

"You fed from them?" Harry squeaked.

"We weren't sure we were going to get dinner-- what with Aubine being all high and mighty about feeding off of humans," Maggy said. "We can't be picky with our putanesca these days, can we?"

"What do we do for an hour?" Ron asked.

"You wait," Salene said. "You aren't looking too healthy either, ginger. If you are smart, you'd wait until all of you are fit for traveling,"

"And, you take a look at this," Felan's voice said. He came walking up with Bryon Jensen behind him. Felan shoved a letter at Harry. "Charlie killed another owl, it had that, and we were trying to figure out who it is to." Harry looked at the back of the envelope and read it.

_Miss Z. Grey_

_The Largest Den_

_The Dark Forest_

_Scotland_

"Z. Grey?" Harry muttered. He opened the envelope and read the letter inside.

_Dear Miss Grey,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted_

_to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

_Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31. _

_Yours sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall,_

_Deputy Headmistress_

Harry looked up at Felan. "Who's Z. Grey?" they both asked.

"Grey," Ron whispered. "I know I've heard that name before." Harry looked back at the address on the envelope. Something about it...

"The largest den," he murmured.

"Who lives in the largest den?" Ron asked.

"Fi lives in the largest den," Harry said. "And this does correspond nicely with her lack of memory."

"And that's not the only thing," Felan flipped over the paper. "This is a reply, and _she's not going_,"


	5. Chapter Four

Chapter Four:

"Hogwarts letters!" Mrs. Weasley announced. It had been about two weeks since Harry had gotten to the Weasleys' house by way of flying car. Mrs. Weasley handed out the letters over breakfast. "Dumbledore already knows you're here, Harry. Doesn't miss a beat, that one," she commented, handing his to him as Fred and George (looking like the personifications of one of Felan's 'wrong phase of the moon' jokes) slumped down the stairs and into the kitchen.

Being at the Weasleys' house was sort of everything being with the Fianna wasn't. At the Weasleys, he didn't have to kill his own seconds, he didn't have graveyard duty (which was exactly what it sounded like) every Friday from eight to ten, no Theurge training, and the games weren't based on what type of bird you were able to kill (crows were ten points, and if you got an owl, you won the game). The house was more comforting in some odd way and, everybody spoke English, so that was also excellent.

"Look at all of the Lockhart books on the list," George pointed out. "New Defence teacher must be a fan"

"Ten to one it's a witch," Fred continued the thought.

"Uhh... Lockhart?" Harry asked. "What's that?"

The twins shared a look, and George imitated a high-pitched voice. "He's _only _the most handsome, useful wizard this century!" he squealed.

"That was frighteningly girl, George," Harry said.

"I did it right then."

"Mum's obsessed with him too," Ron grimaced. "She swears he's like the best thing since store-bought wands."

"That was frightening girly as well, Ron," Fred joked.

"Stuff it," Ron snarled around a mouth full of toast. Harry smiled as he perused the rest of the booklist.

"You boys better get dressed," Mrs. Weasley said, looking at Fred and George. "We're going to Diagon Alley today."

"This lot," George gestured to the list, his voice lowered to a whisper, "won't come cheap. All of Lockharts books cost an arm and a leg."

Another good thing about the Burrow. When people made comments with references to the removal of any important part of the anatomy, they were usually just making a figure of speech. Harry full on knew that if something cost 'an arm and a leg' back in the forest, they would be expected to get an arm and a leg (preferably off of an animal, as humans were off limits).

"We'll manage," Mrs. Weasley said briskly. "I expect we'll be picking up a lot of Ginny's things secondhand."

"Ginny's starting at Hogwarts this year as well?" Harry asked.

"Oh yeah," Ron said. "She's just _thrilled _about it. You know, being in the same vicinity as you, twenty four hours a day, seven days a week. Expect to be seeing her out of the corner of your eye for the rest of term."

* * *

"What do you **mean**'she stole his owl'?" 

"I mean," Charlie cleared his throat dramatically. "I was goin' in on a dare, from Dee the chit's a real sadist, right up to Sam Sutherson herself it was run of the mill, steal an undergarment from Sutherson's armoire you know that huge thing that she has on one wall and I open it and there's that bloody owl, all broken up."

"Broken up?" Felan asked, taking a bite out of a carrot. "What do you mean, 'broken up'? Dead?"

"Dismembered?" Fi questioned, biting into a strawberry while simultaneously petting Drunkard the cat, who was sleeping on her lap. "Burned? Beheaded? Bled to death?"

"Wing broken and looks like she twisted it's foot or something as well," Charlie said. "I'm not exactly the leading owl physicist, but I know the outlook's pretty damn bleak, all right?" He punctuated the last sentence by pushing a piece of lettuce into his mouth.

"So it's _going to die_?" Fi asked.

"It looked a bit runty "

"As owls tend to do," Fi interrupted him. Charlie glared.

"It looked a bit skinny, so I'll say she hasn't been feeding it very much. Probably trying to hold it hostage. It's just the sort of thing that bitch would do."

"Well, Harry's about a million kilometers away, so I bet that throws a spanner in the works," Felan tossed the carrot top over his shoulder and started peeling apart a cabbage head. Fi stood up (Drunkard rolled off of her lap but continued to sleep like the dead) and brushed off her shirt.

"I'm going to get some more strawberries," she said.

"I hear that Torra's patch has some good ones," Felan called after her. "But then again, after that trick you pulled on her, I doubt that she'll be very sympathetic to the cause," he muttered.

"So, I've got a plan about how to get Harry's owl to safety," Charlie continued. Felan shook his head.

"No, no plans from you. I'm still pissing blood from when we got punished for the Durbin Street incident," he shuddered.

"That was indeed a mishap and totally my responsibility and I intend to pay back Yesmina in time, but this is a lot better than that one!" Charlie said. "In fact, it's fool-proof. That means, even a fool like you could pull it off."

"I know what fool-proof means," Felan sneered. "I'm not an idiot."

"Totally," Charlie added. "So, anyways, this plan..."

"Yes, go on."

"Sarah Sutherson told Marlaina who told Dee that Samantha Sutherson fraternizes with the Get of Fenris help every Sunday sundown I know, skisky, right?"

"Skisky?" Fi asked, coming back with the strawberries. "What the hell is 'skisky'?"

"I donno, I just made it up," Charlie said. "As I was telling Felan here "

"Yeah, yeah, Sutherson is bonk buddies with one of the hired," Fi shuddered. "Go on."

"Actually, it's three of them. But that isn't the point," Charlie corrected. "The point is, she's out of her cave on Sunday night and doesn't come back in until 0300, and there's that whole time period in which we can stole back Harry's bird and... I donno can we mail live owls?"

"One big flaw in this 'fool-proof' plan of yours, Char," Felan said, reaching to pull a turnip out of the ground. "We nab that bird, Sutherson'll know it was us."

"Correct," Fi agreed. "It's just the sort of demented idea that Felan would come up with."

"Demented?" Felan asked.

"Shut, rab," Fi said quickly. "She'll go after us quicker than you can say her name."

"That's why we have this," Charlie held out what looked like a wax stick.

"What the hell is it?" Felan asked, dropping the turnip and reaching for it. Fi snatched it first and sniffed it, then dropped it on the ground.

"Pheromones," she snarled. "But how?"

"God, Fi, do you really want to know?" Charlie exclaimed. Fi shook her head.

"Smells like Marlaina," Felan said offhandedly.

"That's because he probably got them from Marlaina," Fi said. "Right?"

"Once again, you don't really want to know," Charlie said. "But, I took me three nights to get this thing last year, and I was almost certain it would come in handy."

"Why did you get it?" Felan asked.

"Because he's a pervert masochist with no common sense?" Fi guessed. "Or Torra was willing to pay big for female pheromones, and Charlie here was ready and willing."

"Second," Charlie said. "But the point is, rub this on your arms and neck, go into Sutherson's cave and you're off the hook."

"There's no way in hell I'm rubbing Marlaina's crystalized piss on me," Fi snarled.

"Actually, it's sweat," Charlie corrected her. "From when she was in heat a while back."

"Marlaina goes into heat?" Felan asked.

"Already?" Fi shrieked. "That bitch just about outdoes me in everything, doesn't she?" Felan shrugged and was about to pick another carrot out of the ground when he stopped.

"Shit! Tolliver's coming," he said, hopping to his feet. "Quick, look like you're harvesting something."

* * *

Being a Theurge meant that you had to know many types of meditation and prayer and religion in general. Harry was a Theurge, and it wasn't exactly the funnest thing in the world to watch the other Theurges in class go slightly crazy from the mind-altering fumes they had to inhale during classes. During one such class, Harry learned a very important thing when Maeve, looking just about a sickly and pinched as ever, stood up to give a small definition of the religion 'voodoo'. 

_Voodoo. The way it works is that a so-called witch doctor puts a so-called curse on someone by making a doll that looks like that someone and sticks a needle into said doll's heart. He leaves the doll at the house of the man who is under the so-called curse. When the man sees it, he becomes very frightened and dies of ten consecutive strokes. _

The lesson he had learned? Not only was Maeve a drunk (and somewhat high) atheist, but that fear was something to be avoided at all costs. A few days later, Maeve had to give a larger definition of Buddhism as well. Needless to say, it was the same definition in slightly different wording with the word 'ambiguity' inserted every few sentences.

But indeed, fear was to be avoided at all costs. Including that instinctive fear of silver and wolfsbane. The fear that had more or less taken ahold of Harry on the day that everybody was about ready to go to Diagon Alley, when he had seen that bracelet that Mrs. Weasley was wearing.

"Mrs. Weasley, is that bracelet silver?" Harry asked. Mrs. Weasley looked at the bracelet.

"Yes, in fact. Arthur gave this to me on our first anniversary."

Harry felt nauseous. Which was interesting, because it was probable that Mrs. Weasley never took the thing off, which meant that he should have felt nauseous before this, but I digress. He felt like retching now, and that was what mattered.

Of course, he had been exposed to silver before. Only once before, and that was two years ago. Dee Philips had dared him to steal a silver ring from a jewelry shop and wear it for two days. Needless to say, he ended up in a coma for three weeks after the initial aggressive reaction to having silver on his skin of course.

"Harry, are you okay?" Ron asked tentatively.

"What?" Harry asked. "I mean... yeah, I'm fine." When in fact he wasn't fine. He was far from it, in fact. But the one thing he could be thankful for, was that he wasn't a pureblood like Felan or Marlaina. When Dee tried the same dare on Marlaina, she had to call it to a halt because Marlaina's skin started getting third-degree burns when she went within a few inches of silver (well, according to Felan, who had 'supervised' the dare, her skin caught aflame, but Harry had to assume that she only got burned).

"Really? Because you look a little bit pale," Ron said.

"I said I was fine," Harry snapped. Once again, not fine.

By the time midday rolled around, Harry felt like he'd been runover by a... erm... very large truck multiple times.

"You look _horrible_, Harry," George commented. "Are you sure you're not ill?"

"I've been worse," Harry said truthfully, although in a scratchy voice. It would pass, he told himself. "Trust me, I'm fine."

"'You sure?" Fred asked. "We're going by Floo powder, and we wouldn't want you blowing chunks or anything."

"I'm fine!" Harry growled as Mrs. Weasley took the pot of Floo powder and held it out towards Ginny first.

"You've used Floo powder before, right Harry?" she asked. Harry nodded as Ginny seemed to burst into flames in the fireplace (which wasn't the most comforting thing in the world). Ron went after Ginny, and then Fred and George, then it was Harry's turn.

He grabbed a handful of the Floo powder and stepped into the fireplace. His heart raced, his mind reeled as he dropped the Floo powder. He accidently breathed in a lungful of the ashes as he was saying his destination and was soon spinning off and away.

* * *

"Seventy-five percent certainty," Fi said suddenly. 

"What?" Felan asked.

"There's a seventy-five percent certainty that Sutherson'll be makin' it with the handy boys tomorrow," Fi explicated.

"Is that what you've been working on?" Felan exclaimed. "You're supposed to be doing my maths!"

"And you're supposed to be doing my astronomy work," Fi countered. Felan glared at her and grabbed the paper she had been writing on.

"What does this say?" he asked. "Why is this all in Arabic or something?"

"I don't know Arabic," Fi sneered.

"Well then you should stop writing in it," Felan snapped. "I don't get it, how is any of this " he gestured to one side of the paper, "relevant to Sam Sutherson's Sunday nights?" Fi looked at the paper and shook her head.

"No, that has nothing to do with it. You see, I got this problem wrong in Philodox training yesterday, and it bugged me, so I tried to figure it out. See, all there... and there..." Fi pointed. "Turns out it was a trick equation, the answer doesn't exist."

"What about _my _maths?" Felan asked. Fi picked up a paper off of the ground.

"I got that finished hours ago," she said with a shrug, handing the homework to Felan. "What about my astronomy?" she asked. Felan glanced down at the homework that he had abandoned for a bag of potato crisps.

"I'm working on it," he said. "I forgot the name ... yeah," he tossed the crisps aside and picked up the homework again.

"So are you going to use Harry's books when you go to Hogwarts or are you going to buy new ones?" Felan asked casually. Fi looked up from the circle she was doodling on her paper.

"I told you, I'm not going," she said in a low voice. "Drop it and leave it alone."

"Not according to the letter you sent that McGonagall bird," Felan said.

"What?" Fi asked. Felan could practically see her weighing the odds in her head. "You changed the letter, didn't you?"

"You know, you shouldn't always write in pencil, Fi," Felan said with a grin.

"Felan, you idiot!" Fi shrieked. "Did I not get the message across when I told you that I'm not going to Hogwarts?" Felan grimaced.

"No, you got the message across, but it was a little late in the game for you to do so," Felan said. "You're not going to kick me in the balls again, are you?" he asked innocently.

"No, this time I'm going to cut them off!" Fi said darkly. "But not before you finish my astronomy work, because I suck in that class. And if you get me a bad grade, I might consider full castration as well."

* * *

Harry miraculously ended up in the Leaky Cauldron. If he had religion, he would have probably thanked some deity for looking after him. 

"Harry!" a familiar voice greeted. "You look ill."

"I am ill, very ill, happy?" Harry snarled. "Hermione?" he asked.

"Didn't I tell you that Hermione would be here?" Ron asked. Harry shook his head. "Could have sworn I did," Ron muttered.

"Sorry," Harry said, climbing out of the fireplace and into the pub, dusting himself off. "I'm... off."

"Off?" Hermione asked, clutching the package in her hands.

"For lack of a better word, yes, I'm _off_," Harry said. Hermione frowned.

"Well, you don't have to be snippy about it," she said loftily. Harry looked towards Ron.

"Where to first?" he asked, stepping forward right before Mrs. Weasley came through the giant fireplace after him.

* * *


End file.
